The halls of the citadel were darkened by the night. Through the ornate window arrangements only small silver slivers of moonlight pierced the cold black onto the milky gray cobblestone floor. The drapes were dusty from years of neglect, though the castle of Halo was inhabited by many the slave, servant and dignitary. This hall was rarely used, evident by the accompanied thick dust coated on the sharp edge cobblestones. They had not been managed in quite some time, no wonder since very little furniture decorated the walkway. It was a dank part of the castle that even King Marik didn’t travel.
One side of the corridor held large, oak double doors, ornately decorated with golden handles and intricate carving. Each heavy door was paralleled by just as intricately designed window frame. Each window was laden by heavy maroon velvet curtains with only small openings to let the light in. The whole hall hadn’t been touched in years.
At the beginning of the hallway, in front of the door that lead to the primary living quarters of King Marik, sat Keela with a wooden bucket of water and a scrub brush. “Clean the Worship Hall.” Keela muttered beneath her breath in derision. Four simple words that had Keela bent over sharp cobblestones that sliced her knees if she pressed just the wrong way. She was only at the beginning of the hall when, in frustration, the slave through the scrub brush into the soapy bucket. The water splashed over the side and mixed with the grime on the nearest cobblestone, effectively making a muddy paste. Keela swore under her breath and stood up.
“I’ll be at this all night!” Keela exclaimed to herself, throwing her hands in the air. Why the steward had instructed her to solely clean the corridor, Keela would never know. Maybe it was because she refused his advances at every turn, or the fact that Keela was a prized possession and any harm that came to her would have the steward’s head.
The exotic woman picked herself off the floor and rubbed the sweat off her brow. Her tangled brown hair fell as knottily behind her back as Keela’s attempts at hygiene would allow. With brown almond shaped eyes, Keela walked down the corridor, speculating at how many days it would take her to solely clean it. With everyone in the citadel asleep, including Steward Astion, Keela had all the time in the world. With a ginger hand, the slave touched the nearest golden door knob and pulled. It creaked with the effort but it wouldn’t budge. Keela moved on, trying every door.
A draft swept through the morbid hallway, lifting some of the heavy curtains from the solid positions as Keela reached the center of the room. Blood tripped from Keela’s sole as the granite cobblestone bit into her flesh with each step. The girl didn’t mind the mild pain, only the effort she would have to exert to clean it up. Keela pressed her palm to the golden handle, this one was cold.
She hesitated, feeling the wind wrap around her for a moment before it was gone. Astion must have opened a window at the other end of the corridor to whisk up the dust to make it more difficult for Keela to clean. “Astion.” Keela glowered, her eyes narrowed. With minimal effort on this door, the oak frame swung with a mild creak. As she opened the door, brilliant silver light escaped into the darkness of the hallway.
As Keela stepped inside, she basked in the light. Its source was a skylight in the roof; the moon loomed directly over the cleared window. In the center of the room was a marble statue of a howling wolf. With a scrutinizing glare, Keela stepped forth, further into the light. This room was pristine, there was no dust, no grit, and even the granite tiled floors were smoothed and care for. Keela twirled in circles to gaze at the perimeter as she stepped closer to the marble wolf. It was large, much larger than any statue she had seen in the whole proper of Halo.
The moon was brighter than normal, as if illuminated by the wolf. Warily, Keela reached her hand forth to touch the smooth marble. And when the feeling should have been cold… it was warm.
Welcome, Keela.
Original Series Inspiration: Onom
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